


Cham and Black

by LorelaixLove



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2019-12-02
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:41:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21639007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LorelaixLove/pseuds/LorelaixLove
Summary: An unexpected friendship helps heal the man formerly known as The Winter Soldier, and one day, he gets to repay the favor!
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 20





	Cham and Black

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone. This is my first foray (as an author) into the MCU. Please enjoy the fluff, which was written as a gift for a friend of mine. <3

_“Hey, you’ve reached…”_

“That’s odd,” Bucky muttered, as the call went to voicemail for the third time straight; he didn’t bother leaving a message, disconnecting the call and shoving the phone in his pocket.

“What is?”

He’d been so distracted that he hadn’t noticed Steve falling into step beside him, and it took him a second to get his bearings and answer.

“It’s nothing…” he said, not wanting to give a voice to the worries that were growing in his mind, but Steve was nothing if not persistent.

“Yeah right,” Steve said. “Something to do with Mystery Ma’am?”

Bucky scowled at his friend, hating the nickname he’d christened Pam with; it wasn’t like he’d meant to keep her a secret from the team but…

“I hate when you call her that,” Bucky said, in lieu of an answer.

“Well, if I knew her name, I’d use that, but since I don’t…”

Bucky playfully socked Steve in the shoulder. “Nice try, punk.”

* * *

He’d met her completely by accident one fall morning when he’d left the Tower for some peace, walking aimlessly for blocks until he’d come upon her in front of a small cafe, struggling with the door.

(To this day, it pissed him off to no end to think of how many people passed her without offering assistance.)

She’d thanked him politely and made her way inside, shooting him a grateful smile as she made her way into the line to order.

It was the same the next day. And the day after that. And the day after that, too. 

Until one bitterly cold day when he’d followed her inside, the cold making his insides demand coffee and a reprieve from the frost outside.

It seemed like he wasn’t the only one who had the same thought - the cafe was packed, and almost every table was packed.

One of the baristas was wiping one down, and she waved his ‘door buddy’ down. “Don’t worry,” the barista had said. “You want your usual? I’ll get it for you.”

It looked like she was going to protest, but instead, she handed over her card and thanked the barista. Just before she wheeled over to the table, she paused, glancing at Bucky.

“If you want, I’ll save you a seat at my table,” she said.

He was originally going to say ‘no.’ Crowds weren’t his thing, and he’d found that most people either gawked at his prosthetic when they realized what it was made of, tried to make conversation, or nearly shat their pants when they realized why exactly he looked so familiar (pardon or no, sitting next to a proven assassin was never something people enjoyed doing, for some reason).

But it seemed that the cold overrode whatever objections he had and he nodded. His ‘buddy’ gave him a small nod, and wheeled to the table.

Moments later, he found himself heading over to her, holding a large black coffee in one hand, and a large chamomile tea in the other. 

They sat in comfortable silence, each enjoying their drinks and the warmth until their cups were empty. “Thanks for...letting me sit with you...Pam,” he said, when it looked like she was getting ready to go. 

Her eyes widened, then crinkled at the corners a bit when she gave a sheepish smile, realizing that he’d gotten her name from the side of the cup, where it had been scrawled in black Sharpie.

“Anytime, James,” she said, taking a page from his book. “Thanks for always helping with the door.”

After that morning, he found himself following her into the shop more often than not, and in turn, sharing her table. Over time, they graduated to small talk, then full blown conversations. Sometimes, he’d talk about the past, trying to disguise just how far in the past he meant, and she’d tell him about her life - her siblings, her mom and her cat named Buttons. 

He found himself looking forward to their daily chats - she never pressed, gawked or made him feel like a freak. The one time she’d spotted the prosthetic, her eyes widened in fascination for just a fraction of a second before getting back into the conversation at hand. He almost felt... _normal_.

As most things in Bucky’s life, the calm didn’t last. He was pulled out on a mission in the middle of the night, and what followed were the longest three weeks of his life. _Fucking HYDRA_.

When he wasn’t engaged in the mission, he was thinking of Pam.

When the mission _finally_ ended (successfully, even though the bruises on his face might say otherwise) and the team made it home at last, he didn’t bother with a debrief, or going to the medbay. Instead he chanced a glance at his watch, raced to his floor to grab a shower and change, and raced out of the Tower.

He made it to the cafe just as she started wrestling with the door. “Pam!” he called.

Pam started, turning toward the sound of his voice. When she realized who was trotting toward her, her face broke out in a smile. As he got closer and she took in the bruises, the cuts that still hadn’t had time to heal, her smile dropped into a small frown. “My God,” she murmured.

“Do you have time to catch up?” he asked.

Instead of speaking, Pam nodded, and they made their way inside. The barista who’d helped out before was there again, wiping down the table again. “Morning!” she chirped, when she spotted Pam. “Cham and black?”

“Yes, please,” Pam said, avoiding Bucky’s gaze.

“Gotcha,” said the barista. “I’ll bring it over in a jiff.”

They sat together in silence, Pam’s eyes roving over his face until the barista came back with the large tea and an equally large black coffee. Just when Pam was about to hand over her card, Bucky pulled out his own. 

“James I -” she protested.

He silenced her with a look, waiting until the barista had gone. _I missed you_ , he wanted to say. _I couldn’t help but think about you._

“I didn’t know you started drinking coffee,” he said instead.

Her cheeks went pink. “Well...it’s for a friend,” she said. “I didn’t know where he went or when he’d be back…” Pam’s breath hitched for a moment, her pretty green eyes filling with tears. She paused, trying to get a reign on her emotions. “So, I figured it’d be best to be prepared.” She took a quick sip of her tea, trying to force back the tears and ease the lump in her throat.

Bucky took a quick sip of his own drink before meeting her gaze. “I’m sorry I worried you, doll,” he murmured.

“It’s okay,” she said. “At least you’re back.”

The rest of the conversation had been light, a firm deviation from the heaviness that he’d been surrounded by for so long. But all too soon, the coffee and tea were gone (and his phone had been buzzing against his leg for the last five minutes).

“Sorry,” he said. “I have to take this.” Pam waved away his concerns and he pulled the phone to his ear. “What’s up, Steve?”

“Where are you?” Steve asked. “Fury’s having a calf about you not being here for the debrief.”

“Well, let him have a herd of them,” Bucky snapped back. “I’ll be back at the Tower in 10.”

“Buck -”

“I’ll see you in a bit, Steve,” he said firmly before disconnecting the call.

When he looked at Pam, she was frowning, worry dancing in her eyes. “Another mission?”

Bucky’s mouth fell open. “How did you - I mean, no, just a debrief but - ”

“Just a guess - especially after seeing your arm. Damn...I’m sorry, it’s probably none of my -”

“It’s okay,” he said. “Pam, I…”

His friend cocked her head to the side when he stuttered to a stop. “Could I have your number?” he finally asked. At her gasp, he rushed to explain himself. “That way, I could let you know if I have to ‘disappear’ again.”

Pam nodded, handing over her phone. “Just put your number in, and I’ll text you back.” He quickly put in his information and handed the phone back, watching her as she saved the info. “Go on,” she murmured. “Before they think I’ve kidnapped you, or something.”

He gave her a quick nod and rushed out of the cafe, knowing that Steve would start blowing up his phone any minute.

Sure enough, his phone buzzed against his leg but instead of a missive from Steve, an unfamiliar number was on the screen.

_No more disappearing, Mister! :) Text whenever you like!_

* * *

The texting had been tentative at first - neither wanting to bother the other - but over time, it grew and grew until they were texting throughout the day. And somehow, it had evolved into phone calls. First just at night to bid each other good night. Once, she called when she was bored on her break at the office.

And then he called her before he left on a mission. Or in the middle of one, when he had a spare second. Or as soon as he touched down in New York, to let her know that he was safe. Once, when he’d insinuated that all the contact was a bother to her, she let out a snort and disavowed that, insisting that she’d find a way to kick his ass if he ever disappeared on her again.

“I don’t care if it’s the middle of the night, or if I have to step away from my desk at work, James,” she said firmly. “If you call, I’ll answer.”

And she always had. Even if it was early in the morning, or the middle of the night, Pam always answered. Sometimes, they talked for hours. Sometimes, Pam would soothe him to sleep, and they’d stay in silence until they both passed out. Even the others on the team had noticed a difference. In those moments, he was happy, almost like he’d been before HYDRA, before the war, when he’d just been a kid from Brooklyn.

So this...this radio silence was concerning.

He’d tried dialing her again a few hours later, with the same response (or lack thereof).

“Buck,” Steve said. “Everything okay?”

Bucky let out an exasperated sigh. “She still didn’t answer?” Steve asked.

“No,” Bucky replied. “She was fine when we spoke last, but…”

Just then, his phone (which had been resting on the counter) buzzed and a new message popped up on the screen.

_Hi James; sorry I missed you - it seems like I took a longer nap than intended. Didn’t mean to worry you. Are you around?_

Instead of replying to the text, Bucky pressed “Call” and pulled the phone to his ear, letting out a tiny sigh of relief when the call was answered. “Hi James,” Pam said, her voice a little strained.

“Hey, doll. You okay?” he said, picking up on the distress.

“I’m fine,” she said with a tiny hiss.

“No, you’re not, doll. What’s wrong?”

Pam tried to chuckle. “I promise, it’s nothing. Just a little bit more achy than usual.”

“Oh, honey,” he murmured. “I’m sorry.”

Pam sighed. “It’s okay...I’ll be better soon - hopefully, I’ll be able to get some tea tomorrow; had to call out of work today.”

Bucky winced, knowing how much she hated doing that. Before he could stop himself, he said, “I’d be happy to bring you some.”

Pam gasped ever so softly (hell, he probably wouldn’t have heard it if it weren’t for the serum). “You don’t have to do that, James,” she said. “Really, it’s - ”

“Doll,” he interrupted softly. “I want to. I mean, unless you don’t want me - ”

“No, it’s not that I don’t want you - well, to _see_ you,” she corrected. “It’s just that…”

“Doll? What’s your address?”

* * *

A half hour later found him in front of the door to her apartment, waiting as Pam shuffled to the door. As much as he tried, he couldn’t tune out her pained whimpers (which he knew she was trying to hold back). Finally the door opened and there she was, decked out in fuzzy pajamas, her dark hair slightly sleep-mussed, a wide (if pained) smile on her face. He was surprised to see her on her feet, until he remembered that she’d mentioned that she walked a bit at home.

“Come in,” she said, ushering him inside. “Please forgive the mess.” As she spoke, Buttons popped down from her cat tower, curious to see who the newcomer was.

“You have a nice place,” Bucky murmured as he stepped in, taking a quick look around the spacious studio. “Not messy - I’d say cozy.” He gracefully managed to avoid Buttons as he made his way to the small dining table that Pam had to set down the tea.

Pam snorted. “Tomato, tomahtoe.” When she spotted Buttons tailing after Bucky, she let out a smooch. “Buttons! Leave James be, silly girl.”

“She’s just as beautiful as her mama,” he said, squatting down and extending a hand for the cat to sniff before giving her a soft pat.

“Oh, sure,” said Pam with a slight chuckle, before letting out a moan of pain.

“Come on, honey,” Bucky said, “Let’s get you back to bed.”

“Do you say that to all the girls, Barnes?” she quipped.

Bucky gave her a quick smile and a wink. “Just the ones I like.”

Before she could come up with a retort, he’d come up beside her. “Let me help you, doll. Do you trust me?”

“W - yes. Yes, I do,” she said.

In a flash, he’d scooped her up as if she didn’t weigh more than a feather and carried her to her bed. “Blanket on or off?” he asked as he laid her down with all the care in the world. 

“On, please,” she said. He nodded before tucking her in, before turning back to go retrieve the tea.

“You’re too sweet,” she said as Bucky handed her the cup of chamomile tea. “I’m sorry you had to see me like this.”

“Nothing to apologize for, darlin,” he said, as he sat on the edge of the bed, a steaming cup of black coffee in his hand. “Anytime you need me, all you gotta do is call.”

They sat together, Buttons having joined them at some point, traipsing between her mistress and the super soldier. When both cups were empty, Pam’s green eyes met Bucky’s blue.

“James?” she said, her voice quiet and shy. “Would you stay a while...in here with me?”

“Of course, doll.”

_-fin-_


End file.
